


To You, An Admirer *REMASTERED*

by sophielou21 (Scarlettpeony)



Series: The Song of Awenydd [1]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Background Relationships, Bribery, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence - Merlin (TV), Canon Era, Canon Fix, Canon Universe, Class Differences, F/M, Gen, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Graphic Violence, Political Alliances, Season/Series 01, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 12:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10437600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlettpeony/pseuds/sophielou21
Summary: When Guinevere and Arthur unwittingly exchange love letters not only do they fall in love but also their entire world is set to change forever as the Kingdoms of Albion teeter on the verge of war. Many obstacles stand in their way, especially once they come to the attention of King Uther Pendragon and Arthur's aunt, the powerful Queen Anna Lothian.Elsewhere, Merlin tries to help Morgana decode a recurring dream prophesising imminent doom.-Originally posted to LiveJournal on 28-10-2008 during the first run of Merlin, Series 1. Remastered for AO3.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted to LiveJournal on 28-10-2008 during the first run of Merlin, Series 1. It was originally set to be one-off inspired by the red herring for episode 1.06 'A Remedy to Cure All Ills" on Digital Spy: “Gwen writes a love letter to Merlin—but mistakenly sends it to Arthur.” Due to this work's popularity, I ended up continuing it and creating a completely separate timeline/canon divergence as a result.
> 
> As the fanfic is nearly 10-years-old and as part of my preservation project for my old Merlin works from LiveJournal, I have decided to complete remaster this fic exclusively for AO3 and amend the story slightly to bring it more in line with characters that appeared in the show (i.e. such as the character Gawain/Gwaine be altered slightly, as well as his family circumstances) and replacing some generic, original characters will canon characters simply for consistency. 
> 
> I will produce a list of any significant changes to the story will be listed at the bottom of each chapter as they are released.
> 
> For those of you who have rediscovered this fanfic and are re-reading for the nostalgia, be assured that the core story will remain the same. This is just a remastering - not a re-write.
> 
> 'To You, An Admirer' was originally published in two parts: 1 (& this Prologue) to include the original one-shot, and my first plan for the story right up until the May Day Joust, and 2 to include the Albion war plot, Queen Anna and Arthur's arranged marriage to his cousin, Elaine. I will be splitting these two parts into separate stories (as they probably should have been): 'To You, An Admirer' covering the letter plot and the TBA title to cover the war.
> 
> Both will be posted along with all the other post-fic tie-in works, some previously unpublished, under the series title: 'The Song of Awenydd'.

It had all started because of a letter.  
  
Very few people knew that because it was the catalyst of the “long version” of the story which, to the generations who would later come to hear this epic tale of love, loss and rediscovery, had rarely been recited from the beginning. People cared more to hear about how the two lovers came to realise their love for each other, or confessed it and finally came to be together. Even if the tale attempted to go back further, to the key moment that butterflied into a series of events that would change Albion forever, the letter never seemed to come up.  
  
A silly letter and a fortunate misunderstanding…  
  
Yet this was how the whole thing began, one evening in early spring.  
  
Just as today there are few people who could imagine bold Guinevere worrying over anything, let alone drafting a love letter, back then in the yesteryears most people would be surprised that timid little Gwen – an unassuming maidservant to the glamorous ward to the Camelonian king, Lady Morgana – would have the guile to even _think_ about writing an anonymous love note to a boy she had a crush on, let alone going through with it.  
  
Nonetheless, Gwen had made up her mind. She was going to tell Merlin the truth, even if it meant rejection. In her mind, it would offer a sort of closure. She would finally be able to move on and get over her feelings if she could just let them out in one fell swoop and see what his response was.  
  
Maybe if he thought about it, about her, he would realise that feelings lingered there?  
  
Gwen knew not to get her hopes up. Frankly, the whole thing felt like a lost cause once she was physically sat at the table by her bed, shyly contemplating whether she would even be able to write down her feelings. It embarrassed her just to think about them let alone try and put them into coherent sentences for her to scribe. Like a love-struck girl using a code in her journal to hide the identity of her love-interest, it felt taboo to put her gushing infatuation into words.  
  
She scrunched up the paper she was writing on and tossed it into the fire. It had been the third attempt of the letter she had scraped.  
  
_Give up, Gwen_ , she thought to herself. _Merlin… just thinks of you as a friend. Why would you want to spoil that?  
  
_ Running her hands through her hair, she wondered if she should give up this time. Then, her pride kicked in.  
  
_Pull yourself together, Gwen!_ scolded that other side of her. _The worst he is going to do is say he just wants to stay friends. You could live with that. You are friends right now – so just tell him the truth._  
  
Eventually, she picked up the quill, dipped it in ink and began for the fourth time to draft her enamoured confession of love:  
  
_I cannot believe it has taken me this long to write—_

 

 _No_ , thought Gwen.

 

 _You are the last person in the dark. Everyone seems to know why I am poor at expressing myself, except you. Everyone else knows how I_ feel _, except you. But I know that’s just the way you are – so, I decided the only way to help you understand would be to write it down…_

 

Gwen stopped to consider what she had written so far. It was hard for her not to chuckle coyly under her breath. She touched her warm cheeks with her cold hands; they were flushed from the emotion. Just say what comes from the heart, she thought. Finally, she cleared her throat and went on writing.  
  
_I feel braver safer in putting my feelings to paper because I’m worried about what you would think if I dared say it to you in person.  
  
_ She took a deep breath. _  
  
Whenever I see you, my whole world lights up!  
My blood feels as though it is scolding my veins as it rushes through me…  
  
_ Gwen grumbled at that last part; it sounded both desperate and cliché. While it was all true, she also knew that the ‘burning sensation’ was common and well-used in the language of love letters and poetry. Seeing it written down right there in her own hand, she wondered if there was a way to make it sound less… biological.  
  
She decided to scribble it out and rephrase:  
  
_Whenever I see you, every part of my body aches It would be an understatement to say that you are the sweetest individual I know…_  
  
“Understatement? What on Earth do I mean by that?!” Gwen groused.  
  
At that moment her father, Tom, popped his head around the door. He had heard her and wondered what was going on.  
  
“Are you alright, Gwen?”  
  
Embarrassed, Gwen leant over the paper to hide it from his view. Offering him a tired smile, she nodded to him.  
  
“I’m… fine, Dad. I’m perfect, brilliant. I’m just thinking… about dinner. It’ll be mushroom soup.”  
  
Tom beamed, “Sounds lovely. You’re such a good girl, Gwen.”  
  
He left to return to the forge and Gwen took a deep relieved breath. She twiddled the quill between her fingers, feeling too self-conscious to write some of the things in her head. She had been completely focused, in the moment and with the flow, but her father walking in had tensed her up again. In fact, she felt worse. It was only _slightly_ better than how she felt when she actually faced Merlin, backtracking on every sentence she uttered and making a fool of herself.  
  
She pressed the pen to the paper and forced her nervous hand to write repeatedly…  
  
_I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you…_  
  
Once she had written it she felt as if she could write it a billion times. A wave of relief rolled over her as she finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. If she could say – or rather write – that then she could do anything.  
  
Well, she could finish the letter, at least.  
  
She read over her scribbles again to decide on how to phrase it into the letter. After another moment of contemplation, she began writing again, her hand feeling freer:  
  
_I love you. If that comes as a surprise, then I have nothing else to say other than I love you.  
  
_ Her hand now felt loose and she began to write more:  
  
I might not be the beauty that catches your eye, but know that I’d do almost anything for you. I thought you might have guessed how I felt after what happened when you were almost killed but you obviously didn’t see it. You seem to have missed me – again. I sometimes wonder if my love is truly in vain. But I won’t lie to you anymore. I won’t lie. I adore _you...  
  
_ Gwen threw down her pen in frustration.  
  
“He’s going to think I’m a lunatic!”  
  
She tried something a little different.  
  
_I love your good, well-meaning nature. Your angelic face and good heart.  
_  
Now she knew why men were the ones who usually wrote love letters.  
  
_Writing this letter… is the only way I can finally express how I feel without you then turning around and thinking I’m joking._  
  
Gwen exhaled deeply. That felt a little better and less… flowery. She didn’t want to sound like an insane girl, or worse insincere. If she could just be straight to the point and completely honest, then she knew she would feel happy passing the letter on.  
  
She took another piece of paper ready for the final version.  
  
_The last thing I want to do is embarrass you so, I apologise if this letter comes as a surprise to you. If you felt what I felt right now, you would understand why. Writing this letter… is the only way I can finally express how I feel without thinking I’m joking. So here it is:  
  
I adore you.  
  
I think about you often as I work, your_ _sweet nature and good heart. How handsome you are! I just wish you could see it, how I feel and how much I care. I feel braver safer in putting my feelings to paper. I’m worried what you would think if I said it to you face. Every part of me aches every time I see you smile and that makes me feel all the lighter. If you desire, then please send me your reply. Leave the note behind the lose brick at the back door of the northwest wing of the castle. I’ll collect it on Friday. I will accept your answer no matter what._  
  
Another sigh escaped Gwen’s lips as she braced herself to sign off.  
  
_Thinking of you, Gwen._  
  
The moment it was down there in black and white, she straight away regretted the putting of her name. Her courage deserted her. Though this was a confession of love, putting her name to it seemed too final. So, should it be anonymous. After all it was a wonderful thing to hear that someone loves you even if you don’t know who it is. There was something more romantic about a secret admirer.  
  
She scratched her name out of the parchment. For a moment, she considered simply signing the letter with an ‘X’ – an anonymous signature and a kiss in one – but then she had another burst of inspiration. Something “unique” in her own mind. Something that would make him _want_ to reply.  
  
_Hoping to have roused your curiosity  
  
An Admirer_  
  
Gwen sighed. Her hand was shaking. This was the best she could do. She could write it up neat, seal it and send it on its way. But how would she give it to him without him realising it was her? She needed to give it to someone who could pass it on to him. At first she thought of giving it to Gaius but then quickly reconsidered it. He’d know it was from her, and that would defeat the whole point of her being a secret admirer. She decided to give it to someone outside of their circle, someone who wouldn’t tell Merlin it was her. She decided she would give it to one of the underling servants who would then pass it onto him without a thought.  
  
Someone sweet, always willing to help and wouldn’t ask any questions.  
  
She held up the sealed letter, admiring it. She ran her fingers over the seal, almost unwilling to let it go. The thought that Merlin would hold the words she had written in his hands, read it and consider it made her feel all a flutter. Yet despite of her worrying over what he would think all she could do was smile.  
  
  
*  
  
  
The next day on her way to tend to Morgana, Gwen approached the stables where she knew Tyr would be. He had been in service at the palace as long as she had been and was one of Arthur’s many servants so he also had frequent access to Merlin. All she needed to do was ask him not to say it came from here, and she would be fine. Tyr would never break a promise, not even if his life depended on it. She knew the safest way was to hand it to someone like this.  
  
Besides, she was the Lady Morgana’s handmaiden and Tyr was very conscious of his place in the hierarchy of servitude.  
  
“Good morning, Tyr!” she called to the boy.  
  
He looked up, bright as a button. Despite spending the entire morning after blind Sir Olwen– a veteran knight of the old days – as he rode his horse hither and tither, he still has a soft and proud smile on his face.  
  
“Morning, Gwen,” he said perkily.  
  
As she approached him, she momentarily hesitated.  
  
_You can do this, Gwen!_ she told herself.  
  
“Could I ask you a favour?”  
  
“Of course, Gwen.”  
  
She bit her lip as she handed him the letter.  
  
“Could you pass this letter to Prince Arthur’s manservant, Merlin? Don’t tell him it’s from me.”  
  
The boy took the letter immediately.  
  
“Give his to Merlin and don’t tell him it’s from you?”  
  
Gwen nodded.  
  
“Is it--?”  
  
“Please, Tyr!” she said, desperately. “This is important. Better not ask questions!”  
  
The slightly pump stableman shrunk back slightly. He looked it over before nodding.  
  
“I know better than to ask questions when you personal maids give orders.”  
  
“It’s not an order,” Gwen quickly said. “Just… important.”  
  
Tyr figured this was very vital, and if anything, he was quite honoured she had chosen him to be the passer-onner. Usually, no one gave him much consideration. Even though Gwen and Merlin would talk with him often, it was quite fun to be part of whatever this was. Besides, he knew not to ask questions when higher ranking servants told him to do something. So, he charged off towards the main stables where he knew Merlin would be.  
  
“You can count on me, Gwen,” he vowed. “I promise.”  
  
Then he was off, leading one of the horses away with him.  
  
Once the boy was out of sight, Gwen had regrets straight away. Even though she had not signed the letter she dreaded to think what Merlin would think when he read the letter. Would he immediately guess it was from her? That was Gwen’s biggest fear. On the other hand, anyone else probably would guess it was from her straight away… but this was _Merlin_. He was too gullible and modest. _Then again_ , Gwen thought, even if he did guess would that such a bad thing?  
  
These thoughts plagued her as she made her way to work.  
  
Her distractedness certainly did not go unnoticed around Morgana, either.  
  
“Are you alright, Gwen?” the lady asked, rearranging a bouquet of flowers set before her.  
  
The maid’s head snapped up so fast it almost cracked.  
  
“Oh,” Gwen gasped, feeling her cheeks blush. “Yes I’m fine, milady. I-I picked these fresh flowers for you. I hope you’ve been sleeping better.”  
  
“Well,” Morgana sighed, indicating that she had had yet another rough night. “I can’t really remember the last time I did ‘sleep well’. Every night seems to be one nightmare after another. It’s—”  
  
In that instant, the memories of her bad dreams were pushed back when she saw Gwen’s face.  
  
She tilted her head in amusement and, with a smile, said, “Now tell me what’s wrong with you.”  
  
“Me?” Gwen squeaked, now bright red. “Nothing’s wrong with me!”  
  
“That’s funny because if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were smitten,” her mistress chuckled.  
  
Gwen bit her lips and looked down.  
  
“With Merlin, right?”  
  
Determined to hide her already obvious embarrassment Gwen smiled and grabbed the vase of flowers.  
  
“These need more water!”  
  
As Gwen made her escape Morgana called out to her:  
  
“For what it’s worth I think he likes you too.”  
  
Gwen gasped as she spun around.  
  
“Really?!”  
  
Immediately, she wanted to kick herself for speaking without thinking. In just a second she had given away her feelings within seconds and was now quite ashamed of Morgana’s teasing smile. Gwen tried to make a recovery in vain.  
  
“I-I mean, is that so?” she garbled out.  
  
“You’re a lovely young woman he’d be bad not to. He just doesn’t realise it yet.”  
  
Gwen sighed. So, that was what she meant. That he _should_ like her, not that he _actually_ truly liked her.  
  
“It’s nice of you to say so, milady.”  
  
With that, she left the room the refill the vase with water and try not to think about her letter on the way to Merlin.  
  
  
*  
  
  
As expected, Tyr found Merlin preparing to muck out the stables. That meant he must have done something to annoy Arthur again, which was bad for poor old Merlin but nice for Tyr as it meant they could talk. He liked to share some stories with him, especially about their respect childhoods and mothers. Both boys had never known their fathers, either, so that was something else they could speculate on together. Heck, if all else failed they loved to share stories about the horses and the odd personality quirks they had…  
  
But no, this letter was important.  
  
“Morning, Merlin,” Tyr greeted him.  
  
Merlin huffed. “Is it?”  
  
“Is Arthur giving you a rough time?”  
  
“You don’t know the half of it,” Merlin grumbled, rolling up his sleeves. “Frankly, the only servant I’ve ever seen him be nice to is you.”  
  
Tyr was flatted by that but he knew he had to focus.  
  
“Um, before you start Merlin—”  
  
“Hm?” the slender boy asked, but then added before Tyr could continue: “Oh, how is Keincaled? I heard he wasn’t well.”  
  
That was one of Arthur’s battle stallions.  
  
“Oh, that? He’s fine. He was just having an off day, I think. Nothing serious.”  
  
Letter. Tyr. Letter!  
  
“Merlin!” he said, urgently. “I was asked to give this letter to you. It was urgent.”  
  
He rushed up to him and thrust the letter into his hands.  
  
The other boy stared at it.  
  
“Why, is it for Arthur?” Merlin asked. “Who was it from?”  
  
Tyr swallowed hard. “I was asked not to tell, she just said to give it to you.”  
  
“So, it was a she?” Merlin said, eyebrow cocked. “Well, it’s definitely for him, then. A girl would never write to me…”  
  
The young stable-boy knew he shouldn’t have even told Merlin that. He had promised Gwen not to tell.  
  
“Look, I can’t tell you who it was. She just said it was important I gave it to you.”  
  
Merlin smiled, placing a hand on the other servant’s arm.  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he gets it.  
  
Tyr sighed, satisfied his part was done. All he hoped was that he had done it right.  
  
Merlin abandoned his “punishment” of mucking out the horses and made his way up to Arthur’s chambers. He knew that he was likely to ensure a feast of hard and arduous tasks all in the name of humiliating and belittling him. Whether it was sword-fight training, polishing boots, or dressing up in the 'official' servants' robes of Camelot, every day seemed to bring a new and horrible way for which the prince could put Merlin in his ‘place’ and show him up. Arthur enjoyed making Merlin look a fool – and most of the time he had to put up with it. Oh, sometimes he got even with the help of magic but most of the time he just had to grit his teeth and bear it.  
  
The moment he opened the door, he was greeted by the dark eye of Arthur as he stood at the door with his arms folded and a scowl on his face, like a wife awaiting her drunken husband’s return from the pub.  
  
He spoke in an accusatory tone.  
  
“So, either you are the fastest worker in the kingdom, or you haven’t completed the chore I specifically asked you to complete.”  
  
“Sorry, sire,” Merlin said swallowing his pride and putting down the objects he had been carrying. “I haven’t started but something came up and—”  
  
He looked at the private dining area in the next room. It looked nothing short of a disaster zone, like a rat’s utopia.  
  
“Had a party with the knights last night did you?”  
  
Arthur glared at him.  
  
Merlin added quickly, “Sire.”  
  
The prince sighed. “Since you’re here, I will dress. Fetch me a clean tunic, would you?”  
  
“But—”  
  
“Now, Merlin!”  
  
Chewing the inside of his cheek in frustration, Merlin heeded the order.  
  
Arthur inspected the tunic before preparing to put it on. There was nothing wrong with it. It was spotless. He often wondered how Merlin managed to do all the work that he assigned to him without cutting corners. He managed to clean his armour, have his washing done, sheer his sword, pick up his meals and tend to the horses all in one day. On top of that he was also Gaius’s dogsbody, so he was constantly taking people’s prescriptions and gathering herbs for the medicines.  
  
It had got to a point where Arthur liked to give Merlin more work than needed to be done just to _see_ if he managed to do it, and oddly enough he always did.  
  
Merlin felt a little smug. It was frustrating having no one his own age to talk to about his powers, but sometimes it was worth it just to see the look on Arthur’s face when he presented him with brightly polished armour that would have taken most servants all night to clean.  
  
“Is everything alright, sire?” he said, biting his lips to avoid a smirk.  
  
“The buttons need more of a polish next time.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yes, sire. I’ll remember that.”  
  
He began to clear away the dining table. Arthur looked down at the objects laid out on the table. It was then he noticed the sealed letter. He picked it up and turned to Merlin, “What's this?”  
  
“I don’t know. Tyr gave it to me. He said to give it to you.”  
  
Without another thought Arthur opened the letter.  
  
“Why would Tyr write me a letter?”  
  
“He didn’t write it. He just got asked to pass it on.”  
  
“What do you mean? Who is it from? It has no name on it.”  
  
“I don’t know, he didn’t say.”  
  
Arthur was used to getting letters from women of the court telling him how wonderful they thought he was; how strong, witty and brave. Every girl in the kingdom wanted him. He was the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom so it was only to be expected. Trouble was, he had heard it all before and as much as he liked having his ego stroked from time to time, there were only so many scented letters filled with the same tripe he could take.  
  
With a sigh, he broke the seal and read the letter to himself. It was certainly more restrained than most letters he received. As a matter of fact, there was a great degree of honesty in the letter, as if repressed feelings had been unleashed. More importantly, he couldn’t think who the letter could have come from. It wasn’t written by Tyr, that was for sure.  
  
After reading through it a second time he walked into the dining room where Merlin was cleaning.  
  
The young servant glanced up to see his face twisted in contemplation. It was such a peculiar expression that he couldn’t help but snort in laughter.  
  
“I knew it!” Arthur snapped in an accusatory tone. “You wrote this as a joke to get back at me.”  
  
Merlin stopped laughing straight away.  
  
“What?”  
  
Arthur lowered his eyes, “Very funny, Merlin. You almost had me… this letter is certainly more unique that what I’m used to but—”  
  
“I wasn’t me!”  
  
“I suppose understand,” the prince continued, folding the letter up again. “You wanted to get me back for forcing you to wear that silly hat at the Mercian feast so you wrote a fake love letter to have a laugh at my expense. Very funny, Merlin.”  
  
Immediately, the servant’s face switched to a more curious (and nosy) one. “But… it wasn’t a joke.”  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow, suddenly on guard.  
  
“You mean… you are serious about what you said in this letter.”  
  
“W-what?”  
  
“I have to tell you Merlin this doesn’t come as a surprise to me. After all I am exceptionally handsome, athletic and incredibly rich—”  
  
“You forgot modest…”  
  
“So I would understand if you worshipped me enough to write love letter but I’m sorry to disappoint you, I’m only interested in _girls_.”  
  
“NO!” Merlin squawked. “I told you I _didn’t_ write that letter. Tyr got it from… some girl. Then he gave it to me to give to you!”  
  
“He didn’t say anything else?”  
  
“He just said ‘she’ – but we don’t even know if the letter was written by her. For all we know, she could have been passing it on to for someone else.”  
  
Arthur unfolded the letter again to look at it. Merlin tried to sneak a peek but he held it tight against his chest so he could not see. The servant awkwardly walked backwards and posed a question: “Doesn’t it have a name on it?”  
  
“No, they just refer to themselves as ‘An Admirer’,” Arthur muttered.  
  
He picked up the letter and toyed with it a little.  
  
“I think it’s very… cute,” Merlin went on. “I mean, to take the time to write a letter just to let you know that you are loved. If someone wrote something like this to me I’d be very flattered.”  
  
“Haven’t received many love letters in your time, have you?”  
  
Merlin shook his head.  
  
“The girls in my village avoided me because they thought I was weird.”  
  
“I can’t imagine why,” Arthur muttered sarcastically.  
  
_You have no idea_ , Merlin thought.  
  
“I just think it must be a wonderful think to find out that somebody loves you.”  
  
Arthur looked at him.  
  
“Yes, I suppose it would be.”  
  
There was a long pause as the prince pondered over the letter while Merlin stood, swinging a broom between his fingers. Finally, their eyes met again.  
  
“Merlin,” said Arthur.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“The table.”  
  
“Oh,” Merlin said looking at the dirty table covered with leftover food and wine. “Right, sorry.”  
  
  
*  
  
  
Arthur was charging towards the courtyard. Those who dared to ask him what was wrong were simply told that he was on his way to “teach Merlin a lesson”. Apparently, he was taking longer than usual to finish “minor” tasks and needed some “sense knocked into him”. He was apparently going to find him and plot new, inventive ways to make him look like the fool is was. Little did any of them know, this was a mild deception, a clever – at least Arthur thought it was clever – rouse on the prince’s part to conceal his true intentions. Merlin was a handy excuse.  
  
Going down the stairs and towards the northwest wing of the castle where Gaius’s quarters were, Arthur came to the place where the loose stone described in the letter was. Taking a moment to ensure he was not being watched, he stopped and pulled it out. He checked around again to make sure no one was watching before he took a sealed letter from his pocket and placed it carefully inside.  
  
Quickly, he replaced the loose brick and turned kneel in the direction of Gaius’s home to find out where Merlin was. He honestly did need to find him and _was_ thinking of the various ways in which he could make him look like a fool.  
  
Anything to distract him from the nervous quaking in his chest.

 

 

* * *

  
  
  
Later that day Merlin was running two errands on one route; retrieving a flagon of wine from the cellars for Arthur and one of his oldest friends, Sir Cei while delivering some medicine to Morgana on behalf of Gaius. As he jogged up the stairs, he made a quick mental note to knock before going in. After all, the first time he had ever laid eyes on Morgana had led to an embarrassing misunderstanding where he ended up being mistaken for Gwen... right as the lady was taking her clothes off.  
  
The knob reverberated off the walls.  
  
“Come in,” called a voice.  
  
Merlin swallowed hard. His heart sped up a little. It was always like that when he spoke to Morgana.  
  
He walked in and found Morgana sitting in front of the mirror brushing her hair. Noticing him in the reflection, she smiled and spun around to face him properly.  
  
“Merlin, what brings you here? Are you here to see Gwen?”  
  
Immediately, his heart settled and he sighed. Ever since they had saved Gwen from being burned as a witch, Morgana had firmly believed that his choice to sacrifice himself for her was because he was in love with her. It was a little frustrating, especially since he had never thought of Gwen that way. Not that it mattered what Morgana thought about him. It was probably more embarrassing for Gwen. If Morgana was anything like Arthur, he probably teased her about it from time to time. He worried it might ruin their friendship. Too often in the future, the mere suspicion of him liking someone had been enough to ruin a perfectly nice friendship with a girl in Ealdor.  
  
He smiled shyly.  
  
“No, no, I was sent by Gaius to give you this.”  
  
Morgana took the bottle.  
  
“Thank you, Merlin.”  
  
He nodded awkwardly and they just stared at each other for a full three or four seconds. It felt like forever.  
  
“Um, bye then!” Merlin said awkwardly.  
  
He spun around to retreat out the door.  
  
“Merlin, wait!” Morgana called to him. “Can I just ask you something?”  
  
Merlin turned on his heel, smiled and bowed politely. “Of course.”  
  
She sighed sympathetically.  
  
“I know you feel awkward when I talk to you about Gwen--”  
  
“No, no, _no_ , I don’t feel awkward.”  
  
“You do. I mean there is nothing to be shy about,” she said soothingly. “Everyone falls in love, and I think you should tell Gwen how you feel.”  
  
“Morgana, that’s not how it is—”  
  
“I mean you’d be very lucky to have someone like Gwen,” she continued. “And you may not realise this but you’re quite a catch. You have integrity and bravery in your heart. That makes you a very nice catch to lots of girls.”  
  
He chuckled modestly.  
  
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m that brave…”  
  
“Don’t be silly,” she said, almost flirting. “Remember, I saw what you did for Gwen. You offered to give up your life for her. That is incredibly noble.”  
  
Merlin almost said that it was not so much bravery as it was guilt for letting Gwen die for something he had done but that would be tantamount to admitting he used magic, and no one knew about his powers apart from Gaius, (Lancelot, though he was not there), and his mother back in Ealdor. Nobody did. So instead he cleared his throat and restored himself to his polite "servant's" mode.  
  
“There is no need to flatter me, my lady.”  
  
“I wasn’t trying to flatter you, I’m serious when I say what I say.”  
  
Feeling defeat on his shoulders, he scratched the back of his head, not knowing what to say.  
  
“I… um, thank you.”   
  
“You know,” Morgana continued. “I like how you don’t pine for external validation like _some_ men do. It’s refreshing to meet someone so… sweet and modest.”  
  
Merlin smirked, knowing that she was talking about Arthur.  
  
“He’s not that bad, _really_ ,” he told her.  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Arthur. I presume we’re talking about him?”  
  
Morgana snickered. “Well, you don’t need a great deal of perception to know how big-headed my foster brother is, I suppose.”  
  
Merlin inclined his head in agreement.  
  
“But I suppose you are right,” she finally agreed. “Occasionally he can be incredibly chivalrous when there is a cause to fight for – I just wish he would stop acting like a little boy in a twenty-year-old’s body. It’s time he resigned himself to his role as future king, which should include treating his servants better.”  
  
“Well, if it means he’ll stop throwing things at me,” Merlin joked. “That’d be a plus.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Merlin. It must be hard being a servant to someone so petulant. So… unlike you. It is why I admire the common people –  they are always so selfless, sweet and kind. I… hope you don’t mind my telling you this.”  
  
He shrugged. In some ways, she spoke with the distance expected of a noblewoman who had never know much strife or hard-labour. People had to be selfless and considerate in the community of the poor. It was a cooperation for the sake of survival. Growing up in Ealdor had taught him that.  
  
Merlin shook his head, “I don’t mind.”  
  
Truth was he thought she was being a bit harsh on him. He suspected that it was Gwen who normally had to listen to these conversations about Arthur and Morgana trying to convince herself that she absolutely did not like Arthur. He wondered how she would react if she knew about Arthur’s secret love letter from a secret lady. It was obviously not from her. So, would she be upset, or not even care? At times Merlin thought that much like how people thought he felt about Gwen, Morgana's feelings for Arthur were entirely misplaced by those they met. They care about them – just not that way.  
  
As if sensing his thoughts, Morgana suddenly spoke again:  
  
“Merlin, if I tell you something, will you promise not to be jealous?”  
  
He gave her a sceptical smile.  
  
“Jealous? I’m sure I won’t.”  
  
She leant closer to him with an almost comprisal smile on her face.  
  
“Between you and me, I’ve been having this strange dream all week. It's about the future, maybe ten or twelve years into the future. I think it must have been Arthur's coronation because the court was glittering but he looked sombre and restrained, certainly nothing like he is now. You were also watching in the crowd, wearing a brilliant new red jacket and silk neckerchief—”  
  
“Ah, so in your dream Arthur was paying me a decent wage.”  
  
“Be serious!” she chuckled. “That's not what I wanted to tell you. Guess who Arthur's queen was!”  
  
Merlin’s right eye twitched, not understanding where this could be going. He gave the most probable answer, not quite sure why she would be telling him if this wasn’t the answer:  
  
“Um, you?”  
  
He remembered his third night in Camelot when he had saved Arthur and become his servant. Gwen had mentioned that she believed Morgana was a queen-in-waiting. Admittedly, Merlin had been a little surprised and ridiculously disappointed by that. Of course, whoever Morgana married, Uther would likely make sure it would be a future king.  
  
But Morgana’s face twisted in disgust.  
  
"God, no! Why would it be me!?"  
  
“I just thought… um, never mind. Who was it?"  
  
She smiled and chuckled.  
  
_“Gwen.”_  
  
Merlin's eyes widened. He almost burst out laughing but instead it came out in an amused squeak.  
  
“Gwen was the Queen of Camelot in your dream?”  
  
His surprise may have conveyed the wrong impression to Morgana. She was no doubt telling him this story to see his reaction. She wanted to see whether it bothered him or not, the idea of Gwen being with someone else – and Arthur, of all people! But of course, he did not feel jealous. If anything, he thought it was funny.  
  
“Yep,” Morgana said confidently, before tilting her head and asking: “Jealous?”  
  
“Um, no?”  
  
He probably sounded more defensive that he wanted to. Truth was, he still didn’t want Morgana to think he liked Gwen that way.  
  
“Don’t worry, it’s just a dream,” she assured him.  
  
“I’m not worried,” Merlin chuckled nervously. There was no point trying to deny his feelings – especially since she wouldn’t believe him anyway – so he decided to let it go. He thought about the dream though.  
  
“Queen Guinevere,” he said to himself. “It does have a ring to it.”  
  
Suddenly, there were three loud bangs on the chamber door.  
  
“Come in!” Morgana called.  
  
The door flung open and Arthur strode into the room. The moment he caught sight of his servant, he before them both with an irritated look on his face. To see his foster sister and manservant together, giggling – unbeknownst to him, partly, at his expense – was like being confronted with the most annoying thing possible. Not least because it involved the two most annoying people he knew.  
  
When Merlin saw him he quickly cleared his throat and tried to explain himself.  
  
“I was bringing your wine but I promised Gaius I’d do a few deliveries..."  
  
“Yes, Gaius told me,” Arthur grunted, annoyed. “When I said ‘Quickly fetch a flagon of wine for Sir Cei and myself’ I meant _quickly_.”  
  
“Yes, yes, sorry!” Merlin bumbled, picking up the flagon that he had almost forgotten about. He turned to Morgana and bowed his head politely before heading off back towards Arthur’s quarters. On the way, he thought of the idea of Gwen being a queen. It was the sort of thing that would only work in a dream. That was a place where fairy tale happenings were possible. Right now, Arthur was far too fickle to fall in love with a serving girl.  
  
_The prince and the maid_ , he mused. _I don’t know if I see it yet._  
  
Arthur’s glare followed him as he swiftly shuffled out the room.  
  
“Quickly!”  
  
He looked at Morgana and nodded in what he thought was a respectable manner, “Morgana.”  
  
“Arthur,” she said, trying to conceal a smile.  
  
As her chamber door closed, Morgana sighed. She hoped Gwen would be back soon to help her organise her vanity as well as simply keep her company. She would not tell her about the dream, though. No need to embarrass the poor girl.  
  
Besides, Gwen was far too good for Arthur.  


* * *

  
  
  
That Friday night, as she was walking home from Morgana’s chambers, Gwen made sure to stop by the appointed place by the northwest wing of the castle. Her heart rattled painfully within her ribcage as she tip-toed passed Gaius’s chamber and towards the back entrance of the castle where the loose stone in the wall was…  
  
She gasped.  
  
Inside, there was a sealed letter addressed ‘TO THE ADMIRER’.  
  
She quickly pulled it out, returned the stone to its place and rushed away towards home to read it. As she neared home, she slipped into a small alcove and tore the letter open, not even taking note of the seal.  
  
As she read it, she smiled.  It was written in a very delicate, educated hand that not many would associate with a manservant. And it was full of very moving and slightly awkward phrases not many would associate with the real writer.  
  
_‘Please, send another response if this one agrees with you…’  
  
_ Her heart was all a flutter as she resolved to draft a response that night.  
  
_This is the beginning of something_ , she told herself as she slipped the letter into her pocket. _I can feel it._

**Author's Note:**

> Aside from minor changes, the following has been significantly amended:
> 
> \- Part 1 & 2 as they were posted to LiveJournal have been merged together and called 'The Prologue'. These two chapters were the original story that was inspired by the Digital Spy red herring. Therefore, to me, they are the prologue. Everything that followed was born out of fan popularity.
> 
> \- Gwen's draft letter and final letter have been completely reworked to be less childish. Considering I wrote this fanfic when I was 16/17 years old, it felt endearing to the then-me but not so much to the now-me.
> 
> \- Gwen gives the letter to Tyr Seward to pass along to Merlin. In the original publication, she gives it to an unnamed page boy who I referred to as the Cook's son. As it was established in 5.07 'A Lesson in Vengence' that Tyr was Arthur's stable-hand since they were children and they were boys together, it seemed fitting to include him in Gwen and Merlin's off-screen inner circle. Needless to say, I will be including Tyr and other servants, such as George and the canon-palace Cook (who can't cook pies), in future chapters and trying to keep them in line with their series appearances.
> 
> \- As with the above, Merlin's interactions with Tyr are brand new and original to this remastering of the fic. He had very little to say to the page boy so, I assure you, nothing was lost.
> 
> \- Arthur does not read the letter aloud to Merlin or even let him read the letter. In the original, he did. On reflection, even for this early portrayal of Arthur, I felt this was out of character for him to do this. A sensitive love letter he would likely wish to keep private.
> 
> \- The order of events within the chapter was slightly altered, having Arthur's drop-off of the letter proceed Merlin and Morgana conversation as opposed to coming mid-way through.
> 
> \- Merlin and Morgana's conversation has been tweaked slightly and I purposely toned down the implied incest between Arthur and Morgana. Obviously, those two don't know at this point they are brother and sister (and nothing ever happened between them anyway) but at the time, we did not know where the relationships were headed.
> 
> \- Gwen's pick up of the letter has been expanded everso slightly to include the prompt for her to send her response to the response.


End file.
